


Seven steps

by orphan_account



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Hansencest - Freeform, I Don't Even Know, Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top!Chuck, bottom!Herc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 13:54:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1228918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew what Chuck wanted. He had always known. And it was wrong on many levels but he'd never been able to say no to his only child, and he wouldn't be starting now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven steps

It took him only a fraction of a second to assess the situation, and he promptly turned around, grabbing for the door handle.

"Stay."

It was part question, part order. Children were greedy, he'd learnt that very soon, and they expected their parents to give them what they desired, without hesitation, without limitation. So that was why his hand did not press down, why it rested on the metal handle bar, and why he was not leaving. 

"Stay." 

Chucks' voice was thick with want, and his breath hitched as his hand went up and down, up and down. Herc tried to shut the image out, but he had seen his son sitting against the wall, legs wide, naked and proud. He knew what Chuck wanted. He had always known. He'd caught glimpses of it in the drift but he'd never brought it up, did not know how. And it was wrong on many levels but he'd never been able to say no to his only child, and he wouldn't be starting now. 

When he turned back into the room Chuck didn't bother to hide his triumphant smile. Why should he?

"Come here." 

Strange, that the roles were suddenly reversed now. Usually he was the one barking short commands, expecting them to be followed immediately, but in this situation it came so naturally to obey. 

He crossed the distance between the door and the bed. Seven steps he counted, seven steps which brought him before his son. With each of those steps he left something behind: his fear, his revulsion, his anger, his denial, his shame, his self-loathing, and finally his guilt. And when he finally reached the metal bunk he was free from everything but desire.

From this close the oppressive heat Chuck radiated made the hairs on his arms stand on end. The heady scent of sweat and semen made his breath quicken, but most of all the way his son displayed himself, his hard cock and his lazy smile a challenge to which he felt himself growing hard in response.

"Get your kit off, old man."

It was a relief to shed his clothes. They'd been naked together so many times before, but this was the first time he really looked, just as this was the first time he was appraised. His own body was taut and muscled and scarred, his son's body was golden and perfect and he had dedicated his life to keeping it that way from the moment he'd chosen him over Angela.

Then Chuck bounced off the bed and kissed him like he was attacking a Kajiu, with all the viciousness and force he could muster. His son pulled him close so he could press their swollen cocks against each other, seeking friction.  
Herc lowered his hands, digging his fingers into Chucks fleshy butt cheeks. He growled into the kiss, hungry, starving, sucking, while he grinded helplessly against the hard hot cock that was throbbing against his. 

“So desperate?” Chuck panted. “Suck it, old man. It’s all the fucking lube your gonna get.” 

He was pushed down, down to his knees, and his lips opened for a different kiss. The bitter taste of come seeped down his throat while his mouth tried to form around the cock that was thrust into it. He gagged and yanked his head back, trying to find room to breathe, but the boy was too far gone already to notice he was choking him.  
Only when he pulled away and shoved Chuck on the bed, did the boy notice something was amiss. Coughing, he crouched on his knees, gasping for breath.  
They eyed each other warily, in the center of a storm. Yes, he could stop it now. He could, maybe he should, but he’d been lost the moment he turned into the room. His sanity took a rain check and an imperceptible nod conjured back the triumphant smile on Chuck's face.

The boy wasted no more words, no more time. He jumped off the bed again and kneeled behind him, ran his hands over the taut buttocks and muscled thighs. Herc shivered. When a finger teased over his asshole he shivered again and pushed backward, only to flinch when it slapped down.  
“I’m gonna own you.”

He inhaled sharply, the words going straight to his cock. How was it, that the only one who knew him so well was his son?  
He was given little time to dwell on that thought. The finger was replaced by a swollen cock, slick with precome and saliva. He tried to relax, clenching his teeth, clenching the edge of the bed, but when the ridge of the head slipped inside he could not suppress a cry of pain.  
For a moment all he could do was breathe. He felt so full, it felt wrong and right at the same time, his first instinct to work the mass out of his body again colliding with his aching desire. Then Chuck started to move, experimentally, slowly, and he could only hold on for his life, trying to move in synch with the thrusts. At one point he could only crouch, his head on the floor, his ass in the air, while his son covered him with his body and fisted his cock, snarling a steady stream of filth in his ears.  
“Oh fuck, old man, you’re so fucking tight. You like this, huh? All these fucking years, trying to hide from me in the drift, but you knew, I knew, all this time I knew you wanted me to do this…”  
Then the rhythm changed. The thrusts became erratic and he cried “Dad, I’m gonna… ah, fuck, dad!”. It sent Herc over the edge as well, and they came almost simultaneously.

Afterwards he shouldered Chuck off him, the dead weight hurting his back. When he got to his feet, he could feel the seed sliding down between his legs. Quickly he wiped himself down with his boxershorts and slowly dressed himself, feeling each move echoed in his lower body.  
Then he looked down on his son, who was still lying on the floor, completely spent.  
Chuck felt his gaze and lazily opened one eye. “Bastard.”  
Herc scoffed, but softened it into a smile. “Damn right.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am going to hell for this one. Gladly.


End file.
